


Fraternity

by MsGreyByrd



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4852715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsGreyByrd/pseuds/MsGreyByrd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rescue, Clark is invited into a prestigious brotherhood. Meanwhile, Chloe is investigating a possible serial killer running loose in Metropolis with each of the victims missing a signet ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clark rushed through the rotating doors of the Daily Planet, catching a mid-swing from someone exiting before him. He briskly walked down Main Street, dodging pedestrians and other obstructions that popped into his path. He was late again. He had been tardy twice this week for dinner with Chloe and this was his third strike. She playfully gave him a hard time but she didn’t mind. He felt guilty though for keeping her waiting for any amount of time. Their relationship was riddled with him keeping her waiting and he planned on ending this trend. 

He wanted to full on running, but among the row of buildings he passed, standing strong as if guards shoulder to shoulder, there was nowhere for to break away. He continued to navigate his way through throngs of people mulling around the Metropolis night life, when he finally found relief in a side street. He blurred away, wind guzzling past him in a stream of blacks. He came down from his speed, stopping at the edge an alleyway near an intersection nearby the restaurant. The human and car traffic had thinned out in this area as well, leaving only a small cluster of pedestrians around. On his side, there was only a man chattering away on the phone.

The light glowed red, defiant against the urgency of his journey. He glared at the light, wishing control over lights was in his repertoire of abilities. There was only a trickle of cars passing by, but far too many people around to zip in between the spaces. If he had the nerve to cross on red. Chloe had called him a Boy Scout for always waiting for light to change. A hearty laugh caught his attention brought his attention fully on the conversation happening next to him. The man was genial, chuckling often and answering only in the positive. Clark took this forced pause to make himself more presentable. After speeding through the air, his shirt was rumbled and his tie uneven, thrown off-centered from the knot. He smoothed his sleeves, not daring to look at his watch. The chatterbox approached from the side he was on, stepping off the curb when the white WALK figure blinked on. Clark followed him, taking long strides. 

A gust of wind flitteted by, whipping around a power line above the two men. Clark followed its length above him to the weak spot that swayed with the breeze. He hadn’t made it in time for the car accident that occurred at this same corner over a week ago and repair had yet to come. The power line threatened to fall directly atop the man’s slick hair any moment, causing Clark to pause his strides, unbeknownst to the man. Another gust of wind and it popped, dropping down to the street below, sparks raining from above. Clark pulled the man away from the sparks, causing him to stumble forward a few steps.

“Whoa.” The man stared at the sparks, shaking his head at the close call. Clark picked up the pieces to the man’s phone and held it out, his eyebrows knitted in sympathy. 

“Sorry about your phone.” Clark put his hands in his pocket. The man took the pieces nonchalantly, tossing them into a city trashcan behind him. He returned his sharp gaze to Clark. 

“Never mind my phone. You saved my life.” The man had a distinct accent that Clark couldn’t quite place. He tugged his suit jacket straight, seemingly unfazed by his near death experience.

“Anyone would have done it.” At this, the man laughed heartily, throwing his head back slightly. 

“You’re not from here are you?” He questioned Clark’s selfless act. “I owe you one.” He reached into the silk lining of his jacket and pulled out a pen and his pocketbook. “Is $5000 okay?” The stranger held the pen on the line, awaiting an answer. Clark stammered and shook his head. 

“No, it’s fine.” He chuckled nervously.

“Nonsense. Name your price.” The man said politely. He had a certain air about him as if he lived in a different world than everyone else. Clark stared at the pen poised in the man’s hand, ready to annotate any amount. 

“I can’t accept that. It’s fine, really.” Clark held up his hand in decline. The man twisted his pen down and returned his pocketbook into his jacket. 

“Well at least take my watch.” He unfastened his wristwatch and offered it to Clark. “I insist. I won’t be able to sleep at night without giving you something.” He smirked persuasively, willing Clark to accept. Clark took the watch from him and smiled. 

“Thank you.”

“Thank you.” He held out his hand for Clark to shake. Clark shook it, noticing a ring on his middle finger. They broke away before he could tell what was on the ring. The gentleman bade Clark a pleasant night and parted ways on the other side of the street. Clark continued on and finally made it to the entrance of the restaurant. He glanced inside at the patrons enjoying their dinners inside. As he got closer, he saw Chloe standing outside searching the around. When she spotted him, she smiled, something Clark could never get tired of seeing. 

“Am I that late?” He said as he walked up to her. 

“No, no. I tried to reach you to tell you that I couldn’t make dinner tonight. Olly just delivered a bunch of leads I have to follow. But I knew you were already on your way here so I waited.” She explained, her lips spreading back into an easy smile. She had been working hard these past couple of weeks but had managed to stay looking fresh-faced and rested. In fact, her skin glowed more now than ever. 

“Oh.” He breathed out in relief, with only a tinge of sadness at his missed evening with her. She laid her hand on his forearm, giving a slight squeezed. She let go, the warmth leaving an impression through is shirt.

“Walk me to my car?” She turned her body slightly, inviting him to be her escort. Clark smiled and they walked together through the stream of people taking their place in the restaurant. “You look flustered.” She commented after some time. He scoffed under his breath but didn’t speak until they reached her compact car in the side parking lot. The lights reflected off the restaurant’s curtained windows at the beep of her key. 

“There was an accident.” He said finally. She let go of the door handle as though it were on fire.

“Did anyone get hurt?” Her hair shook when she jerked her head to look at him. He shook his head and stepped down a small ramp.

“No, it was more of a…preventive action. There was a falling power line.” He set his hand on the roof of the car, coming down with a soft thump.

“So there are categories for rescues?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the side. She looked at his arm extending past her eye level. His shirt had came up slightly, showing the plated watch that was far too fancy for his taste. “Is that a new watch?” 

“Uh…yeah.” He answered slowly, wanting to move his hand without appearing suspicious.

“When did you get it?” She inquired casually. Clark always wore the same watch and had been for years. Up until a few weeks ago when he broke it at the accident. He was actually depressed for a good amount of time considering it was a watch he was mourning. He tugged the sleeve down in vain. 

“Just now.” He replied. 

“Oh, so you were shopping?” Chloe teased with a twinkle of humor in her eyes. Clark squinted his eyes and made a pouted face playfully.

“No. The person I saved wanted me to have it.” 

“Huh. Maybe I should get into the saving business.” She opened her door and slid in the comfortably, finding the ignition with her key. He leaned in once she rolled the window down. 

“You already are.” Clark said quietly, hoping it made it more intimate for her. She raised shoulder, gazing up at him demurely and tapped her steering wheel with the tips of her nails. It didn’t show on his face, but his stomach was doing flips. Partly from the small bit of triumph he felt from rendering her speechless. The other part was solely under the influence of her presence and her smile. He didn’t get started with her sweet perfume. 

“Not the right branch, obviously.” Chloe quipped, finally regaining her voice. She looked at him sideways and turned over the ignition. 

“Breakfast? To make up for tonight?” 

“As long as you have coffee.” She said very seriously. 

“Of course.” He assured her with equal sobriety. 

“Good night Clark.” She giggled and flashed him a final smile. Clark smiled back and brushed her cheek with chaste kiss. Her perfume wafted up into his nostrils, warm from her temperature. Clark stood up straight, stepping back onto the ramp as she began reversing the car.

“Good night.” He waved as she maneuvered out of the parking lot. With a final glance down at the shiny watch and walked into the in between space of the restaurant and the neighboring smoothie boutique, disappearing into the shadows.


	2. Chapter 2

Clark had put off doing the housework for the evening, instead of stopping quickly during his lunch break. He shut the hood of his truck, wiping sticky oil caked on his wrench on his jeans. It wouldn't have taken long for him to just go in the house and retrieve a towel but these jeans were old. They were the pants he wore when he did the grunt work around the farm. Most of the stains and tears he could put to a specific time and incident. This evening, he changed the oil to his truck that he had neglected for nearly a month. The freedom to speed anywhere he chose unfortunately kept his mind off repairing his truck as regularly. 

He tossed the wrench in his toolbox setting on the driver seat and took up the gloves tucked along the side. The tools clanked against each other, shifting in the interior of the box. Clark left the door open for the soft waft of music drifting from the radio, too low for anyone else to hear clearly but him. He walked into the barn and started up his circular saw, the music still sharp over the saw's buzzing to his acute ears. Clark let up the saw in time to hear the sound of his own name. 

"Clark Kent?" Clark glanced over his shoulder as his visitor approached through the wide doors, an expensive silver car gleamed over the man's shoulder nearby the stairs to Clark's home. The man wiggled his tie slightly and regarded his surroundings carefully. As he approached nearer, Clark could see it was the man he rescued from a few nights ago. He was even wearing a similar suit, although there was a red and white handkerchief in the breast pocket.

"Yes." Clark pulled off the gloves he was wearing and stuffed them into his back pocket. He was slightly self-conscious of the oil stain on the thigh part of his pants, he hadn't expected anyone to be coming by, but his guest seemed to take no notice. "What brings you?" The man chuckled softly and put his fingertips together in a tent formation. 

"I know this must come as a surprise but I had to know the name of my rescuer. I'm a curious man." He held out his hand for Clark to shake. "Winston Philips." Clark grabbed his hand firmly and let go, slipping his hand into his pockets. 

"I was just finishing up. Would you like to go inside the house?"

Clark nodded his head towards his family's home. Winston shook his head quickly, raising a hand up.

"No, no, I don't want to trouble you. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm an art dealer and it seems that you've already helped me out before."

"I'm sorry?"

Clark frowned and crossed his arms.

"There was an art theft you covered I believe. You found the missing pieces. I should thank you for that as well."

Winston said.

"It was no problem."

"I would like to extend an invitation to you. I'm hosting an event at one of the exhibitions I've finished to celebrate the opening." He slipped an invitation out of the fold of his jacket and handed it to Clark.

"I appreciate it." Clark held the golden envelope in his hands gingerly. 

"I'll be seeing you." Winston nodded and turned on the heels of his polished oxford. Clark watched him leisurely make his way this car, stepping to the entrance of the barn. Clark tapped the invitation on the palm of his hand and set it on the cleanest part of the butcher block he was working by. 

\--------------------

Chloe hopped up on Clark's desk while she waited for him to change in a backroom. She glanced around the basement and sighed. She missed how quiet it could get if you stayed after long enough or the way the lights leading to the elevator sometimes flickered when you walked by it. Just like it did for her when she first came in, like a greeting from an old friend. Under an alias, she had managed to become a liaison for the Daily Planet and its communication networks - a newspaper form of Watchtower. The best thing was that it allowed her to continue writing and resume the role of the eyes and ears for the city. However, it wasn't like working at the Daily Planet, at her desk, where she could get recognition with her own name. She tapped her heels and hummed to herself when Clark finally emerged from the print room holding the first print of his article. She moved out of the way when he stopped in front of her, expecting him to put the paper in his desk drawer. Instead, he held it out for her to take. 

"Don't you need this?" Her eyes followed him as he pushed in his chair and tucked his phone into his pocket. He stared at her and smiled slowly, shaking his head slightly. After his work on the theft report, Perry had given him chances to do bigger pieces. This one would be featured as a main story. 

"I want you to have the first. I can always print out another." He held the small of her back and guided her towards the front door. Chloe grinned and walked on her own, stepping out before him at the door. The air hit her like an electric shock, stopping her dead in her tracks. She rubbed her arms vigorously when she felt another pair on her shoulders. She looked up at Clark who had draped his arm, sending warm through her body almost immediately. She leaned on them as they made their way to her car. 

"So you still haven't told me where we're going exactly."

"It's a gallery opening. I was invited by Winston Philips."

"Winston Philips? The art collector?"

“Yes. He's the man I helped the other night. He came by the farm and invited me."

"He came by the farm?" The corners of her lips curled up. 

"Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"I'm processing. You got a home visit, seems you have a fan." Chloe snarked. "I didn't know you had such connected friends."

"He sort of...found me." Clark stumbled out. It sounded stranger spoken than when it was mulled around in his mind. 

“Okay, a stalker. Both equally exciting.” 

"I doubt he's stalking me."

“That's to be seen." A comfortable silence passed between them until they were driving away from the DP parking lot. "How do you like working at the Planet?”

“It’s like it. I didn’t think I would but…I feel like I’m doing good there.” He looked over at her. “I feel vulnerable though. I’m not as good with words as you are.”

“You? Huh.” Chloe didn't take her eyes off the road but in her peripheral, she could feel his glare. “You have the heart and passion for truth, probably a lot more than the reporters there trying to get the best byline.” She shrugged. “The words are just pretty packaging.” 

“See? Spoken like a true poet.” Clark chuckled. “It’s not the same without you there.”

“We never worked together.” She pointed a matter-of-factly, relaxing her hands off the steering wheel at the stoplight. 

“Not as official staff reporters but we [I]were[/I] partners. Are partners.” The knot rose in him and he wished he could muster to reach for her hand that was fidgeting with the radio. The light changed and she replaced her hands on the wheel. 

“Well. We might as well been with all your visits. You practically worked there without the deadlines.” 

“I need my daily dose of Chloe.”

“You visit me the same amount. Besides, does anyone ever ask where you disappear to?” 

“I don’t think they notice.” 

“So you say.” Chloe pulled the key out of the ignition and reached for her purse tucked against her calf. 

“Maybe you should try again sometime. There's no biased editor to hold you back.” Chloe bit her lip and glanced over at him as her keys jangled in her hand. 

“Maybe.” Clark held out his arm for her to take and led them the entrance of the galleria space. A young woman flanking the doors asked Clark for his invitation before holding her arm out for them to proceed. Brick walls opened up into the open space with floating white walls in strategic places so that the traffic would flow around the gallery. Clusters of people stood in front of most of the artworks while others kept moving or floated from conversation to conversation. Waiting staff carried around refreshments, holding out a tray for Chloe to take champagne from. Clark shook his head at the caterer’s offer when Winston emerged from a group of suited men gathered at a large sculpture. 

“Clark! Welcome. I’m glad you could make it.” Winston shook Clark's hand and turned his attention to Chloe. “Who is this beauty?”

“Chloe Sullivan.” Chloe held out her hand and put on her best smile.

“Welcome.” He kissed her hand, noticing the onyx ring she wore. “That’s an exquisite ring. I recall a relative of mine owning one like that. Onyx is mysterious, no?”

“It is.” Clark answered with a smile. Chloe chuckled.

“I won’t hold you up anymore. Please, enjoy.” He tipped his wine to them and smirked, taking a deep sip. Chloe raised her eyebrow at Clark when Winston excused himself to chat up other guests.

“Interesting choice for a stalker.” She sipped the champagne and steadied in the palm of her hand.

“He’s not a stalker.” Clark rolled his eyes to the amusement of Chloe. 

“Will you be okay by yourself?” She put her empty glass on a dish tray that came around. Clark frowned and stared down at her. 

“I think I can manage.” She hit his arm and left to the sights on the other end of the gallery, leaving Clark to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. He walked slowly towards a painting that took up most of the white wall it was mounted on. 

“This is my favorite one.” A sultry voice rung out behind him. Clark turned to see an attractive woman slink to his side, holding a peach napkin in her slender hand. 

“I like it too.” 

“I’m Leona, Winston’s wife. And you are?” She held out her delicate hand. 

“Clark Kent. Nice to meet you.” Clark grinned handsomely. 

“The pleasure’s all mine.” After a few moments of chatting, she waved slightly over Clark’s shoulder. “I think my husband wants to show me off.” She whispered to Clark, her perfume radiating from her strongly. It was a much heavier and spicier scent than the fresh fruity ones that Chloe often wore. Clark found himself wandering around the gallery alone once more until he spotted Chloe afar. She was admiring a statuette on a pedestal. The display light made her eyes sparkle. She looked in his direction, slowly meeting his eyes. Her cheeks glowed as she seemed to smile in slow motion. It made Clark feel good that that beautiful megawatt gesture was only for him. He was moved through the crowd to her.

“There’s a lot of rare things here.” She mentioned, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. “Do you know anything about the rings everyone has?”

“I know Winston has one.”

“Mysterious.”

“Are you trying to reel us into something?”

“Maybe.” She cut her eye at him. “You go mingle over there. I’ll work over here.” Clark shook his head but departed to the location Chloe had assigned him. Chloe noticed most of the men were wearing rings with burgundy surfaces. Upon closer inspection on an unsuspecting gentlemen, she found that it was a crest with the name [I]Sartos[/I] at the top in cursive. She made a quick note in her cell phone and moved to another area to avoid being spotted trailing a stranger to get a glimpse of his accessory choice - not a good first impression. Chloe scanned the crowd, pausing at any especially tall man to see if it was Clark.

"Did you like the statue? It’s one of the only ones circulating in the world." A disembodied voice cut through Chloe’s mental survey. It was close to the accent that Winston had, but less refined and warm. It belonged to a rough man, his suit fitted closely to his lean physique. He had the features of refined gentleman, not a hair out of place, a manicured beard, but lacked the suave factor. He watched Chloe at the side of his eyes, never giving her pleasure of seeing him dead on. 

"Oh? How did Mr. Philip’s get his hand on it?" She shifted her weight on her other foot. 

"He’s a persuasive man." Chloe could smell through his words. He smirked, drawing a dimple out his cheek. “I’ve never seen you at one of these functions. Are you a new trustee?” His eyebrow twitched.

“No, I’m a friend’s guest. He’s around here somewhere.” Chloe gave a short laugh and searched over the crowd briefly, tapping on the handle of her purse. The man took another long sip of his liqueur and smacked his lips.

“I’m sure I’ll meet him sometime.” He clenched his jaw and squinted at her. His eyes were hazel and cold despite the smile playing at his mouth. She didn’t get a pleasant feeling from him he was wearing one of the signet rings as well, only his was a dark burgundy so that the namesake stood out more clearly. “I’ll let you alone.” He backed away from her, departing in the direction of the makeshift bar counter. Clark appeared next to her, adjusting the hem of his vest. 

“Are you ready to leave?” He touched her forearm with his fingertips, drawing her attention to him. She nodded, happy to be in familiar company and walked beside him to the entrance, where the guards in front held the door open for others exiting. Chloe felt an eerie sensation on her back and glanced over her shoulder quickly, meeting eyes with the man she had been speaking with. He held his drink outward, a goodbye gesture, and turned his back, integrating himself with the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark was uncertain if he had found the right place far after he committed to wandering in. He usually double, triple checked his addresses to make sure he didn’t zip across Metropolis needlessly, especially on his short lunch break. He had been cautious when he slipped out of the Daily Planet bullpen, keeping in mind what Chloe had asked him about colleagues watching him disappear. As he thought, no one was watching him remotely.

Winston’s building was located in the upper financial district of Metropolis, on the edge of the city, not far from the gallery opening a few nights prior. It looked like an old warehouse, with the original brick beside the parts that were hanging on their last leg. The paved pathway to the inset doors were lined with squared hedges and cut that still pricked at the nostrils. Clark stepped through the door that was held ajar, revealing a space with a diverse collection of art work, although more pared down than the opening. He asked a young woman, who was carefully unwrapping a piece he recognized from before, for Winston’s office to which she led him to another doorway, and pointed straight. She patted him on the shoulder and returned to her desk. 

The hallways were dimly lit by a row of inset lighting, illuminating the brick texture that followed to the inside. Clark came upon a dark brown door with gold knobs and tapped the surface with his knuckles. A muffled voice welcomed him inside.

“Clark, you found me.” Winston sat back in his tufted chair. Clark shut the door gently and walked closer to the desk. “What brings you?” He crossed his hands on the desk. Clark set the watch on the marble surface.

“I have to return this.” He swallowed. Winston stared down at the watch and smirked. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept it.”

“It’s a gift.” Winston rubbed his chin and finally looked Clark in the face. 

“I know and I appreciate it, but I can’t.” Clark said. He put his hands in his pockets, not wanting to make eye contact. Winston was silent in a painstaking moment then pushed out of his chair carefully. He sat on the corner of the desk near Clark. He lifted a pocket watch from his inner pocket, the gold chain polished and shining.

“My grandfather gave me this to my father when my dad bought his first house. He wore it with everything from his best suits to the clothes he lounged in. When I was 18, I received it.” He pushed the button for the lock to open. “I could never understand why my father gave it to me. All the men in my family had done great things; I was barely making it as an assistant. I lost it a few times, broke it, soiled it. But my dad never took it back because he wanted me to have it.” He set the pocket watch on the desk and crossed his hands. 

Winston continued, “Clark, you don’t have to wear it – you can strike it against a rock to make a bonfire if you choose to. But there’s no one I’d rather have it than you. You earned it.” Winston lifted watch from the table and held it out. Clark took it and held it in his hands. 

“I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.” Clark said.

“Wait.” He stood, holding a burgundy box from his drawer. “I’m sure you’re aware I’ve taken a liking to you.” He handed Clark the box. “I want you to join the Sartos Brotherhood.” Clark opened the velvet box and found a ring similar to the ones at the party. 

“Thank you.” Clark closed the box and dropped his hands. 

“Think about it.” Winston walked Clark to the door and waved him goodbye. 

 

Clark stared down at the pasta sitting in water on the stove. His mom always told him that if he watched it, it wouldn’t boil. For a long time, he believed it to be true until he learned that it would boil regardless. It just seemed that way because you’re watching it – in the same vein as clockwatching. It was just her way of telling him she wanted him out of the kitchen. He sighed but it was to distract him. He had invited Chloe over for dinner and to talk about what Winston’s proposal. 

“I’m here!” Chloe announced happily, shutting the door with the hand that wasn’t holding groceries. She tossed her purse on the couch and plopped the bag on the counter next to him. She began pulling out produce and put the bag in the trashcan. She grinned up at him and set the cutting board and vegetables on the island. They finished up and brought the pasta and salad to the dining table. Clark took a first bite after putting a napkin in his lap and smirked. 

“This taste like my mom’s.” Chloe chuckled and took a bite. 

“Your mom and I enjoy long, fruitful conversations.” She chewed, smiling. They made small talk throughout their meal. Chloe stacked their plates and pushed it to the side. “What do you want to talk about?”

"What?” Clark glanced at her from the plates.

“You’ve been kind of distant this whole night.” he propped her head on her hand and smiled politely. Clark licked his lips and reached into his pocket. 

“Winston wants me to join the Brotherhood.” 

“The Brotherhood? Sartos is his brotherhood?” she squinted. 

“Technically.” He handed Chloe the engraved ring. “His great-great-grandfather began it with the others who studied with him.” She looked at it, turning it over in her hands.  
“What did you say?” 

“I said I’d think about it.” he sat back in his chair. His ring had the unique crest on the top, but it was shiny burnished silver between the groves instead of the burgundy background. 

“Hmm. It’s not like the other ones I saw.” she dropped it back into his hands. 

“Maybe you get upgraded.” She chuckled and took the plates to the sink.

“Maybe.” He set the ring on the table and pushed out his chair. “I can’t join a brotherhood. That’s not…me.” He crossed his arms as Chloe swiveled and leaned on the counter. 

“It might be fun. Oh come on. It’ll be just like when you were on the football team. A group driven by pure testosterone; what more can you ask for?” Clark chuckled and looked down at her. 

“I saw the type of people who were at the exhibit. I’m a farmer from a small town with ‘small’ even in the title. What could I possibly have in common with them?”

“You’re also a fledging vigilante-hero and rising reporter. It might make life fun.” Clark shifted uncomfortably. 

“My life is fine.”

“But not fun.” She said flatly. He pushed off from the counter and walked into the living room. Chloe joined him.

“Fun isn’t a luxury I can afford.”

“You’re not even thirty yet. Live a little.” Chloe frowned. “You may not believe it, but those cows and chickens don’t need you 24/7.”

“Chloe, I have a responsibility.” He stared straight. Chloe relaxed the tenseness that was forming in her shoulders. She slid her arm across his bulky shape. 

“All I’m saying is that you being ‘The Blur’ shouldn’t be a crutch to living.” They sat in comfortable silence. She glanced down to the coffee table. There was an invitation with the crest stamped on it. “So…do you need me to be your fiancée anytime soon?” she tilted her head towards the card. 

“Not this time. It said “Members only”.” He read from the invitation on the table. “It’s at that gentleman’s club in Metropolis.” Chloe nodded and stretched  
out her legs. 

“I see how that could be awkward.” She commented. “When is it?”

“Tonight.” He answered indifferently. Chloe looked over at him slight shock. 

“Tonight? Clark why did you invite me over if you had somewhere to go?”

“I wanted to see you. And besides, I don’t think I’m going to go.” He sunk into the couch.

“Would it entice you if you did it for me?” She raised her eyebrows. Clark slowly faced her, staring at her with an odd expression. He wasn’t sure how to approach this situation.

“I’m not sure I follow.” He said slowly, never taking his eyes from her. 

“Don’t look at me like that - it isn’t some weird fantasy of mine. The crest design was found on a possible murder victim and I was thinking maybe you could flash your smile until you get some answers from members. It might be a good story for you and it will really ease this curiosity of mine. What do you say?” 

“Chloe, I can’t. That last time I went, Lois gave me a lap dance and it freaked me out.” he scrunched up his face at the memory. Lois was nice-looking, but it was too close for comfort. 

“You don’t have to participate in anything, you just have to schmooze. Big brownie points for living it up too.” Chloe shrugged casually. When she saw that Clark wasn’t budging, she sighed. “Look, I would go with you if I could.” 

“All right.” He nodded. Chloe beamed and hopped up. 

“Now let’s go get you ready.” She grabbed his hand and yanked him up the stairs with unexpected strength. Clark left the farm shortly after, dropping Chloe off at the Talon before continuing on. He checked both sides of the sidewalk before emerging from the alley next to it. He stared at the building, feeling mildly embarrassed for being there. He straightened his back and pushed open the large intricate doors. He stood awkwardly near the entrance until someone tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Clark.” Clark looked to his side and saw a bearded man holding a martini between the spaces of his fingers. “I’m Stephen. We’re in here.” He led Clark through the performance room to a subtly lit hallway. He opened one of the black padded doors for Clark to reveal a lounge area. Across the room, Winston was at a booth seat with different bottles of wine sitting on the table. He noticed Clark coming in.

“Clark. Sit.” Winston offered the seat next to him at the booth. Clark sat down, ordering water from an attractive waitress. He thanked her for the water and sipped it slowly. “Not a drinker?”

“Not really, no.” Clark chuckled. “Listen, Winston, I don’t have an answer.”  
“That’s fine. There’s no rush Clark.” Winston smirked kindly and sipped his Merlot, savoring the notes. He noticed Clark surveying around the room quietly. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just…don’t normally go to places like this.” Clark watched a woman in a pink-checkered mini bodysuit walk by.

“I don’t doubt it. I’m impartial myself, but they serve some of the finest wine in Metropolis.” He swished the burgundy wine in his glass. Winston questioned Clark about farm life, having never lived in a rural area. As Clark detailed things he found mundane, Stephen walked over, excusing himself. He whispered something to Winston and waited as Winston stood up from the booth. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I must tend to some business. Do try to enjoy yourself Clark.” Winston and Stephen left out the padded doors, speaking closely with each other. Clark watched men standing together in conversation or treating some of the workers at the club. 

“Hello handsome.” A sultry voice broke into his people-watching. He looked up to see a tall woman with black wavy hair. She slid into the seat next to him and leaned into him. 

“Hi.” Clark said politely. She held out her hand for him to shake.

“Tinkerbell.” 

“Tinkerbell?”

“My real name’s Veronica, but I’ve been known to work magic.” She twirled her hair while she surveyed his body. She scooted closer to him. “But you can call me anything you like.” Tinkerbell whispered in his ear, pressing her bosom against his shoulder. She kissed his temple. 

“Veronica’s fine.” 

“Where’s your ring?” She stroked his hand, making circles on his knuckles.

“At home. With my fiancée.” He said quickly, with a small hope that that would deter her advances.

“Oh. How long have been engaged?”

“A year.” He gulped down the last of his water and set it on the table. He felt her hand grazing his thigh. He stopped her hand and held it on the table. “I really don’t need your…services.” 

“Oh come on. I’ll do whatever your girl won’t.” She slipped her hand from under his and rubbed across his chest. “It’s a shame you’re hiding that body.” 

“Thank you. I’m happy with her and all the things she does. Quite happy.” He nodded and checked his watch. “I should probably be leaving soon. She’s expecting me.” 

“You just got here.” She glanced at his watch. “It’s still early.” Veronica tried to persuade him, working harder than she usually did. Clark tensed up, thinking of what to say. She saw his anxiety and decided it wasn’t worth the effort. 

“You must really love her.” She moved her arm from behind him and sat straight. “I used to love someone like that.” She reminisced slightly. “Come with me.” she grabbed his hand and pulled him with her but Clark resisted. 

“It’ll take a second.” She had a serious expression on her face. Veronica led him to one of the other private rooms and shut the door. “Why are you here?” She said without leaving the door. 

“I was invited.” He said, slightly annoyed at her question. 

“No, with these people.” she spoke without looking at him, her face hidden behind her flowing hair. 

“Why not?” He asked. Veronica faced him slowly and walked towards him. 

“You don’t belong.” She threw her hands out. “You turned me down to go back home. No one does that. Not here.” She made a circle around him and crossed her arms. “And they really don’t leave their rings with a woman.”

“What does it matter?” He looked over his shoulder at her. She walked up to him.

“It’s in the rules. You just don’t do it.” she had a spiteful tone, repeating the very thing that had once been said to her. “You’re placing your loyalty in something else.” She glowered at the door, shifting her weight on one leg. She took a moment and returned to his face. Her gray eyes were softened. 

“You’re really too decent. Get out while you can.” She kissed him on the cheek and left out. Clark followed, watching her saunter away down the hall. He went the opposite way and exited the building.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What did you tell him?” Stephen threw Veronica roughly into the room she brought Clark into earlier. 

“Don’t worry about it. Okay?” She scoffed and crossed her arms. 

“Answer me!” He screamed, his nostrils flaring, fists balled. 

“I told him he doesn’t belong in Sartos.” Veronica said the name with disdain. Her stomach always turned when she was in his presence. She wasn’t scared of him as a person, only fearful of what he could and would do.

“Why not?” Stephen lowered his voice. 

“He’s not a slimeball like you and the others. He’s actually decent and worth having around.” 

“As if you know what’s decent slut.” Stephen gritted. Veronica threw her arms down. 

“You can’t talk to me like that!” His raised his hand, causing her to flinch. She could still feel the stinging from last time. She glared at him from the corner of her eye as he leaned closer to her and yanked her chin to face him. 

“I got you here; I can talk to you however I want. And I can do even more if you don’t keep your mouth shut.” He growled and stood back. Veronica clenched her jaw. She was itching to break his nose and knew she could get away with it, for now. Instead she gathered her things and walked to the door. 

“My lips are sealed.” She slammed the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~  
Any feedback welcome!


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